PAM. 

JAPAN 


WADING  THROUGH  THE  SNOW 


THE  STORY  OF 
MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


BY 

A FRIEND  OF  THE  FAMILY 


BOARD  OF  FOREIGN  MISSIONS.  REFORMED 
CHURCH  IN  THE  UNITED  STATEsTfTfTEENTH 
AND  RACE  STREETS  ::  PHILADELPHIA 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Columbia  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/storyofmisspinebOOfrie 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


ON  A certain  day  in  February,  twenty  years 
ago,  there  was  a great  commotion  in  the 
modest  home  of  Mr.  Miyagawa,  near 
Tokyo.  Neighbors  came  wading  through 
the  snow  on  their  high  wooden  clogs,  and  passed 
through  the  little  gate  and  along  the  row  of 
stepping-stones,  bordered  on  either  side  by  bamboo 
fences,  that  led  to  the  tiny  entrance  porch.  Here 
each  visitor,  instead  of  knocking,  called  out,  “Excuse 
me,  please!”  At  that,  the  paper  sliding  doors 
opened  and  a member  of  the  family  appeared,  seated 
on  the  matted  floor,  and  bowing  until  her  head 
touched  the  mat.  Greetings  exchanged,  a question 
was  asked  which,  literally  translated,  would  be, 
“Honorable  child  as  for,  male  is  it;  female  is  it?” 

With  an  air  of  apology,  manifestly  sincere,  came 
the  answer,  “It  is  female.” 

Here  followed  many  polite  condolences  from  the 
neighbor.  “Too  bad!  The  first  child,  too,  and  her 
father  is  the  eldest  son!  But  perhaps  the  gods  will 
5 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


be  more  gracious  next  time,  and  grant  you  a son!” 

Sometimes  a visitor,  slipping  off  his  clogs,  went  into 
the  little  parlor,  bare  of  all  furniture  except  the  mats 
on  the  floor,  a few  cushions,  a single  picture-roll  hang- 
ing in  a recessed  place  of  honor,  and  a brass  brazier, 
like  a jardiniere,  containing  a few  coals.  As  he  sat 
on  the  floor,  warming  his  hands  over  the  scanty  fire 
and  drinking  tiny  cups  of  tea,  he  continued  to  express 
his  polite  regrets  at  the  misfortune  which  had  come 
to  the  house,  and  his  hope  that  the  gods  would  be 
more  propitious  next  time. 

Meanwhile  the  cause  of  all  the  excitement  was  in 
the  next  room,  separated  from  the  garden,  with  its 
snow-covered  pine  trees,  by  only  a row  of  paper 
sliding  doors.  She  had  been  dressed  in  the  brilliant 
yellow,  scarlet  and  purple  dresses  proper  for  a girl 
baby,  and  was  lying  beside  her  mother  on  the  floor 
in  her  bed  of  heavy  comforters.  Her  father’s  mother 
was  installed  as  absolute  ruler  over  the  baby  and 
her  mother,  as  became  her  position  in  her  own  house- 
hold. 

It  was  a restful  room,  as  bare  of  furniture  as  the 
parlor,  but  with  a tea-kettle  singing  on  the  brazier. 
Just  behind  the  bed,  however,  a row  of  chests  of 
drawers  had  been  built  into  the  room,  even  with  the 
wall.  Above  their  shining,  red-lacquered  front  there 
was  a long  recess,  forming  a kind  of  shelf.  Here 
stood  numerous  wooden  tablets,  each  inscribed  with 


6 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


the  name  of  a dead  relative  of  the  family.  With 
them  was  the  row  of  household  gods,  looking  down 
at  mother  and  baby  with  their  ugly  expressions  of 
ferocious  cruelty  or  of  cruel  indifference. 

Some  days  had  passed,  and  the  baby  was  seven 
days  old.  It  was  time  for  her  to  have  a name.  In 


THEIR  EXPRESSIONS  OF  FEROCIOUS  CRUELTY 

7 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


consultation  with  his  parents,  her  father  had  selected 
that  of  Matsue.  This  made  her  name  Miyagawa 
Matsue,  and  to  the  world  she  would  henceforth  be 
known  as  Miyagawa  Matsue  San,  or  Temple-River 
Pine-Bough  Miss.  On  this  lucky  seventh  day  this 
name  was  written  out,  and  with  great  ceremony  it 
was  presented  to  the  row  of  ancestral  tablets  on  the 
god-shelf,  thus  announcing  to  the  glorified  spirits  of 
the  ancestors  the  arrival  of  a new  member  of  the 
family. 

On  her  twenty-first  day,  little  Miss  Pine-Bough 
had  her  first  journey.  Dressed  in  her  gayest  dress, 
a wadded  kimono,  with  large  scarlet  peonies  on  a 
purple  ground,  she  was  tied  to  the  back  of  a little 


A SHINTO  SHRINE 
8 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


nurse-girl.  A heavy  wadded  kimono  was  put  over 
both  baby  and  girl,  and,  with  the  father  and  some 
of  the  family,  they  went  through  the  muddy  village 
streets  to  the  temple.  Here  they  presented  the  baby 
before  the  gods,  and  announced  with  due  ceremony 
that  the  temple  had  now  gained  another  worshipper. 

On  the  hundredth  day,  there  was  a gathering  of 
relatives  and  friends  at  the  Miyagawa  home.  Each 
guest  brought  a present,  usually  either  a fish  or  a 
piece  of  bright  cloth  for  the  baby.  With  all  due 
solemnity,  little  Matsue  San  was  given  her  first  solid 
food,  three  grains  of  rice  from  her  grandmother’s 
chop-sticks.  Then  the  company  feasted  on  red  rice, 
so  called  because  cooked  with  red  beans,  to  give  it 
the  lucky  red  color. 

The  first  six  years  of  little  Matsue  San’s  life  passed 
quickly  enough  in  the  little  matted  house  or  under  the 
pine  trees  in  the  garden.  She  played  quietly  with 
her  dolls,  carrying  them  on  her  back  as  she  had  been 
carried  when  a baby.  She  learned  to  sit  properly  on 
the  floor,  her  feet  crossed  behind  her,  and  her  little 
kimono  perfectly  straight  and  smooth  over  her  knees. 
She  learned,  too,  how  to  make  a polite  bow,  putting 
her  hands  to  the  floor  and  bending  until  her  forehead 
almost  touched  him.  Continually  she  was  trained 
in  obedience  to  her  father,  to  her  grandmother,  and 
to  the  little  brother  who  had  come  a year  after  her 
birth.  Every  day  she  helped  her  mother  to  put  the 
9 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


PLAYING  WITH  HER  DOLL 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


offerings  on  the  god-shelf,  and  every  day  she  went 
through  the  formulas  of  worshipping  the  gods  and  the 
ancestors.  One  more  ancestral  tablet  had  been  put 
on  the  god-shelf.  The  old  grandfather  was  dead, 
and  little  Miss  Pine-Bough’s  father  was  now  the 
head  of  the  family,  the  holder  of  the  family  property 
and  the  ruler  of  its  members. 

He  was  a stern  descendant  of  the  ancient  soldier 
class,  the  samurai,  the  finest  product  of  Old  Japan. 
In  the  world  of  modern  ideas,  unfolding  all  around 
him,  he  held  fast  the  ancient  code  of  the  samurai. 
For  him,  the  twin  virtues  were  courage  and  loyalty, 
with  loyalty  as  the  greater  of  the  two.  Above  all 
things,  he  must  be  loyal,  he  believed;  loyal  to  his 
Emperor,  to  his  feudal  superior  and  to  his  ancestors. 
Whatever  interfered  with  this  loyalty  was  wrong; 
whatever  loyalty  required  was  right.  If  the  service 
of  his  lord  should  require  plotting  and  lying,  that 
plotting  and  lying  became  a virtue.  If  it  should 
require  the  sacrifice  of  his  whole  family,  that  also 
was  right.  If  it  should  demand  the  selling  of  his 
little  daughter  into  slavery,  that  would  not  be  wrong. 
If  it  needed  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  life,  suicide 
became  the  height  of  heroism.  Without  the  great 
ability  of  General  Nogi,  he  had  the  same  spirit  which, 
last  summer,  made  the  old  general  take  his  own  life, 
that  he  might  follow  his  Emperor  into  the  land  of 
spirits. 


11 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


IN  THE  CLASS  ROOM 


A DRILL  IN  CALISTHENICS 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


Matsue  San’s  mother  served  her  stoical  husband 
with  the  submission  due  from  a model  wife.  Even 
the  grandmother  seldom  opposed  him,  and  the  little 
daughter  never  thought  of  such  a thing  as  gainsaying 
her  stern  father.  Yet  he  was  fond  of  the  pretty  little 
girl  in  his  peculiar  way,  and  she  knew  it,  and  pre- 
ferred her  father  to  all  the  rest  of  the  family. 

It  is  the  law  in  Japan  that  all  children  must  attend 
the  public  schools,  and  no  others,  for  at  least  six 
years.  Accordingly,  when  she  was  six  years  old, 
little  M iss  Pine-Bough,  with  about  sixty  other  chil- 
dren of  her  age,  entered  the  public  school  of  their 
town.  During  the  next  eight  years  she  learned  to 
read  and  write  the  four  to  six  thousand  Chinese  char- 
acters necessary  for  the  comprehension  of  ordinary 
Japanese  books.  She  learned  something  about  arith- 
metic and  geography,  a little  sewing,  singing  and 
gymnastics,  and  a great  deal  of  drawing. 

But  above  all,  she  was  trained  in  manners  and 
morals.  For  her  these  consisted  in  the  two  womanly 
virtues  of  politeness  and  obedience,  already  inculcated 
at  home,  with  the  addition  of  what  to  her  was  the 
worship  of  the  Emperor.  On  every  national  holiday 
and  every  other  great  occasion,  the  picture  of  the 
Emperor  was  brought  in  state  from  its  place  in  the 
fireproof  storehouse  in  the  school-yard,  and  teachers 
and  pupils  alike  bowed  before  it.  On  the  frequent 
occasions,  when  the  Emperor’s  rescript  on  education 
13 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


was  read  before  them,  the  children  learned  to  stand 
with  heads  bowed  in  reverence.  Not  a head  must  be 
lifted  until  the  venerated  object  had  been  carried 
with  all  due  ceremony  from  the  rostrum  back  to  the 
storehouse. 

Matsue  San  soon  learned  the  story  of  that  fireproof 
building,  that  looked  like  a little  shrine.  Before  she 
entered  school  there  had  been  a great  fire,  which 
destroyed  the  school-house.  The  most  sacred  pos- 
session of  the  school,  the  Emperor’s  picture,  was  then 
kept  in  the  school-house  itself.  It  was  the  janitor’s 
duty  to  save  this  picture  before  anything  else,  but 
the  roof  fell  in  before  he  could  gain  his  object.  In 
despair  at  his  disgrace,  he  killed  himself.  This  saved 
his  good  name;  he  was  praised  by  everybody,  and 
his  family  were  given  enough  money  to  make  them 
comfortable  for  years.  When  the  school-house  was 
rebuilt,  this  fireproof  shrine  was  added  to  it  to  hold 
the  new  picture  which  the  sacred  Emperor  himself 
presented  to  the  school.  Matsue  San  and  her  mates 
were  proud  of  their  school  hero,  and  looked  on  the 
little  shrine  with  childish  awe. 

With  awe,  too,  and  the  ready  faith  of  childhood, 
they  listened  to  the  old  stories  of  their  history  teachers. 
They  learned  how,  many  centuries  ago,  the  offspring 
of  the  great  goddess  of  the  sun  came  down  to  earth, 
and,  conquering  all  who  opposed  him,  became  the 
first  Emperor  of  Japan.  They  were  taught  that  all 
14 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


their  long  line  of  Emperors  were  descended  from  this 
same  divine  ancestor.  They  learned  that  the  Japa- 
nese were  a “chosen  people,”  a nation  under  the 
direct  protection  of  the  gods,  and  especially  cared 
for  by  all  the  imperial  ancestors.  Girls  as  well  as 
boys  learned  that  above  all  other  beings  stands  the 
Emperor  of  Japan,  and  that  to  die  for  him  is  the 
greatest  of  all  honors. 

Little  M iss  Pine-Bough  was  half-way  through  her 
course  at  school  before  she  came  into  contact  with 
the  new  force  in  Japanese  life.  One  day  some  of 
her  schoolmates  told  her  about  another  school  which 
they  were  attending  on  their  weekly  holiday,  Sunday. 
The  next  Sunday  she,  too,  went  with  them  to  a small 


AT  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 

15 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


Japanese  house,  where  a crowd  of  children  were  being 
welcomed  by  two  young  women.  The  two  wore  the 
pleated  skirts,  such  as  the  public  school  teachers  and 
a few  of  the  elder  school  girls  were  wearing,  the 
uniform  recently  adopted  for  all  teachers  and  students. 

It  was  a strange  hour  for  Matsue  San  as,  with  all 
her  keen  senses  alert,  she  imitated  what  her  friends 
were  doing.  With  head  bowed  to  the  floor  she 
listened  to  somebody  talking  in  most  intimate  fashion 
to  some  superior  person,  evidently  one  of  the  gods. 
She  heard  all  the  children  repeat  in  chorus  a petition 
to  this  same  being,  whom  they  addressed  as  “Father.” 
When  she  raised  her  head,  she  looked  around  for  the 
god-shelf  and  the  offerings.  Nothing  was  there  but 
a picture  of  the  kindest-faced  man  she  had  ever  seen, 
surrounded  by  children  and  holding  one  in  his  arms. 

One  of  the  blue-skirted  teachers  began  to  play 
on  a baby  organ,  such  as  Matsue  San  had  often  seen 
in  her  own  school,  but  in  a very  different  way  from  her 
teachers,  who  picked  out  their  tunes  one  note  at  a 
time,  while  this  wonderful  girl  played  with  both 
hands  upon  three  or  four  keys  at  once.  As  Matsue  San 
was  gazing  in  wonder,  the  children  began  to  sing  a 
song  about  a person  she  had  never  heard  about,  whom 
they  called  “My  Lord  Jesu.”  With  the  full  power 
of  sixty  pairs  of  lungs,  they  shouted  the  refrain  after 
each  verse,  “My  Lord  Jesu  loves  me.”  Matsue  San 
had  never  before  heard  of  a superior  being,  a god, 
16 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


such  as  this  person  evidently  was,  who  could  con- 
descend to  love  a child.  She  knew  all  about  fearing 
the  gods,  serving  them  and  sacrificing  to  them,  but 
the  idea  that  a great  god  would  actually,  without 
any  offerings,  love  and  help  such  an  insignificant 
creature  as  a girl  child,  was  quite  new  and  astonish- 
ing to  her.  She  listened  to  the  teacher’s  lesson,  not 
understanding  much,  but  with  the  strong  desire  to 
come  again. 

From  that  time  on  she  went  more  or  less  regularly 
to  the  little  house,  her  father  making  no  special  objec- 
tion, because  he  considered  the  whole  proceeding  a 
harmless  diversion.  Once,  indeed,  the  little  Sunday- 
school  was  broken  up  for  several  months  by  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  public  school,  who  forbade  his  pupils 
going  to  a place  where  such  disloyal,  unpatriotic 
teaching  was  being  given.  However,  on  his  leaving 
for  a better  position,  the  new  principal,  being  either 
liberal-minded  or  indifferent,  said  nothing  on  the 
subject.  The  Sunday-school  was  reopened,  and 
Matsue  San  attended  as  before. 

Meanwhile,  the  little  girl  was  developing  a very 
bright,  inquisitive  mind.  When  the  great  Commence- 
ment Day  arrived,  it  was  she  who  won  the  honor  of 
making  the  response  to  the  congratulatory  speeches  of 
all  the  dignitaries  of  the  town.  That  meant  that  she 
was  graduating  at  the  head  of  her  class.  A proud 
little  girl  she  was  as,  in  all  the  glory  of  a bright 
17 


new 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


dress  and  a new  skirt  like  those  of  the  teachers,  she 
walked  demurely  up  before  the  dignitaries,  made  her 
bow  at  precisely  the  correct  angle  and  read  her  little 
speech,  full  of  hard  Chinese  words,  in  precisely  the 
correct  style  of  mournful  monotone. 

That  evening,  she  summoned  all  her  courage  to 
make  a request  of  her  father.  Bowing  before  him 
until  her  head  touched  the  floor,  she  told  her  wish  in 
the  humblest  terms.  She  wished  to  go  to  high  school. 

Many  boys  from  the  town  were  then  attending 
boys’  high  schools  in  Tokyo,  going  back  and  forth 
on  the  train  every  day.  Two  or  three  girls  were  in 
boarding-schools.  Mr.  Miyagawa  was  not  a poor 
man,  and  could  afford  to  send  his  daughter.  He  was 
proud  of  this  bright,  attractive  little  girl,  too. 


GIRLS’  NORMAL  SCHOOL  BUILDING 
18 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


although  it  was  inconsistent  with  paternal  dignity  to 
show  it.  Also,  he  knew  that  high  school  training 
for  girls  was  becoming  popular,  and  that  a high  school 
graduate  had  a better  opportunity  to  marry  well  than 
a girl  without  this  education.  He  promised  to  send 
Matsue  San  to  one  of  the  government  high  schools  for 
girls,  in  Tokyo.  But  the  child  had  still  another 
humble  request  to  make.  Would  not  her  honorable 

father  graciously  permit  her  to  enter  the  Girls’ 

School ? 

This  was  the  school  in  Tokyo  from  which  her 
Sunday-school  teachers  came  every  Sunday.  At  first, 
Mr.  Miyagawa  refused  positively  to  send  his  daughter 
to  a school  which  taught  a foreign  religion,  and  which 
was  managed  in  part  by  foreigners.  He  thought  such 
a course  would  be  unpatriotic  and  even  disloyal  to 
his  Emperor.  On  investigation,  however,  he  found 
that  the  mission  school  had  one  advantage  over  the 
government  school  so  important  that  it  overcame  all 
his  objections.  Every  Japanese  who  aspires  to 
culture  wishes  to  learn  the  English  language,  and  the 
mission  school,  with  its  five  or  six  American  teachers, 
could  teach  English  far  better  than  any  government 
school  with  Japanese  teachers  only.  Foreign  music, 
too,  was  becoming  fashionable,  and  he  found  out 
that  this  also  was  taught  better  in  the  mission  school. 
He  gave  his  consent  and  in  April,  with  thirty  or 
forty  other  freshmen,  little  Miss  Pine-Bough  came 
19 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


into  the  dormitory  of  her  new  school. 

She  was  afraid  of  those  American  teachers  at  first. 
They  were  so  tall;  they  strode  about  like  men,  instead 
of  taking  graceful,  shuffling,  6-inch  steps;  some  of 
them  had  curly  hair,  which  meant  a very  bad  dis- 
position ; some  even  had  terrible  round,  blue  eyes, 
like  the  pictures  of  dragons  or  of  Japanese  devils;  and 
they  all  had  such  big  noses!  One  little  freshman  from 
the  country,  on  first  meeting  an  American  teacher, 
burst  into  tears  at  the  sight  of  such  a monster,  and 


THE  DRAGON 
20 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


had  to  be  taken  away  and  consoled  by  the  Japanese 
class  teacher.  However,  the  new  girls  soon  learned 
that  the  “monsters”  meant  well.  A series  of  violent 
attacks  of  hero-worship  succeeded  the  first  shyness 
and  fear.  Almost  every  child  had  one  teacher  whom 
she  thought  absolutely  perfect,  and  to  whom  she  gave 
all  the  loyal  devotion  her  father  would  have  given 
his  feudal  superior.  Matsue  San,  too,  had  her 
favorite  teacher,  and  showed  her  devotion  in  every 
way  she  could,  from  quarreling  with  every  classmate 
who  did  not  agree  with  her  that  Miss  Burns  was  the 
most  wonderful  teacher  in  school,  down  to  imitating 
her  handwriting  so  perfectly  that  Miss  Burns  herself 
could  not  tell  her  own  writing  from  that  of  her  pupil. 

During  the  five  years  in  high  school,  Matsue  San 
continued  her  studies  in  Chinese  characters  and  in 
Japanese  history,  language  and  literature.  Her  new 
studies,  however,  introduced  her  to  another  world. 
Very  soon  the  English  work,  for  which  she  had  come, 
put  her  into  the  midst  of  the  child  life,  the  home  life, 
the  feelings  and  ideals  of  a people  quite  different  from 
any  she  had  known.  Her  work  in  science  under- 
mined her  old  superstitions.  In  the  history  courses, 
she  learned  how  many  ancient  nations  had  had  stories 
and  beliefs  like  those  she  had  learned  at  home  and 
in  the  public  school.  Gradually  she  learned  how 
the  great  nations  have  outgrown  such  crude  ideas. 

While  such  studies  were  taking  from  her  her  old 


21 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


beliefs,  she  was  gaining  something  better  to  replace 
them.  Every  day,  in  her  Bible  class,  she  was  being 
taught  positive  Christianity,  and  she  was  associating 
constantly  with  other  girls  who  were  Christians.  In 
her  third  year,  she,  too,  applied  for  baptism.  Her 
father,  probably  regarding  it  as  one  of  the  school 
ceremonies,  made  no  objection.  Immediately  after 
her  baptism,  she  asked  for  the  privilege  of  teaching 
in  one  of  the  numerous  Sunday-schools  connected  with 
her  school.  She  did  this  work  well,  her  brightness 
being  very  attractive  to  the  children.  She  became  a 
prominent  figure  in  her  class  and  in  the  school,  being 
president  of  her  class  and  of  her  literary  society,  and 
an  officer  in  the  school  Young  Women’s  Christian 


Y.  W.  C.  A.  SUMMER  CONFERENCE 
22 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


Association.  She  finished  her  course,  the  second  in 
her  class. 

Just  at  this  time  Miss  Burns  needed  a helper  to 
assist  her  with  school  work,  calling,  study,  corre- 
spondence and  the  other  multitudinous  duties  of  a 
missionary  teacher  in  a foreign  country.  Matsue  San 
took  the  position  and,  with  her  old  friendship  for 
Miss  Burns  and  her  alert  intelligence,  made  a valu- 
able helper.  Naturally  the  two  were  associated  con- 
stantly in  their  work  and,  when  there  was  time, 
Matsue  San  told  her  teacher  the  details  of  her  past 
life  and  her  present  plans  and  hopes  with  a frank- 
ness unusual  among  school  girls. 

This  pleasant  association  had  continued  for  two 
or  three  months  when,  one  morning,  Matsue  San  ap- 
peared at  her  teacher’s  home  with  a most  doleful 
countenance  and  asked  permission  to  go  home  for  the 
day,  as  her  father  wished  to  see  her. 

“Of  course,  you  may  go,”  said  Miss  Burns,  “but 
is  there  anything  wrong  at  home?” 

“No-o,”  was  the  embarrassed  reply.  “No,  noth- 
ing very  important.” 

She  seemed  so  distressed  that  Miss  Bums  asked 
no  more  questions,  knowing  that  the  trouble  would 
be  sure  to  come  out  sooner  or  later.  In  the  evening 
M iss  Pine-Bough  returned,  with  her  face  all  smiles, 
and  reported  that  all  was  well.  In  the  course  of 
two  or  three  weeks  the  same  incident  was  repeated, 
23 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


and  then  Miss  Burns  learned  the  cause  of  all  the 
strange  symptoms. 

The  fate  of  all  Japanese  girls  was  coming  close 
to  little  M iss  Pine-Bough.  Performing  the  duty  of 
a good  Japanese  father,  Mr.  Miyagawa  was  looking 
around  for  a suitable  husband  for  her.  His  go- 
between  was  conferring  with  the  go-betweens  of 
families  with  marriageable  sons.  Matsue  San  was 
well  educated  and  very  attractive.  The  proposals 
had  begun  to  come.  The  ordinary  Japanese  father 
of  the  old  school  would  have  selected  the  man  he 
regarded  as  most  eligible,  probably  one  whom  his 
daughter  had  never  seen.  Having  made  all  the 
arrangements,  he  would  have  announced  his  decision 
to  her;  she  would  have  bowed  before  him  and 
accepted  the  decision  with  thanks  and,  in  due  time, 
the  marriage  would  have  taken  place.  Despite  his 
sternness,  however,  Mr.  Miyagawa’s  pride  in  his 
daughter  was  making  him  indulgent.  He  summoned 
her  home  and  gave  her  the  great  privilege  of  being 
consulted  in  the  matter. 

Matsue  San  did  not  wish  to  marry  yet.  Espe- 
cially, she  did  not  wish  to  marry  any  man  she  had 
never  seen.  Although  her  ancestresses  for  genera- 
tions had  submitted,  although  no  girl  in  her  family 
had  ever  been  known  to  object  to  such  a marriage, 
Matsue  San  was  not  content.  In  the  most  humble 
way,  she  coaxed  her  father  to  give  up  the  first  match. 

24 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


It  was  not  especially  desirable,  anyway,  and  he  con- 
sented. She  coaxed  him  to  give  up  the  second  also. 

For  more  than  a year  the  proposals  kept  coming, 
sometimes  once,  sometimes  two  or  three  times  a month. 
Each  time,  in  some  mysterious  way,  the  demure  little 
daughter  managed  to  prevail  upon  her  father  to  send 
a refusal  to  the  go-betweens.  Each  time,  however, 
her  task  grew  more  difficult.  She  was  growing  old ; 
she  was  twenty.  It  was  time  for  her  to  be  married. 
Mr.  Miyagawa’s  friends  were  beginning  to  talk  about 
how  he  was  neglecting  his  paternal  duty. 

Meanwhile  it  was  time  for  Miss  Burns  to  have 
her  furlough  in  America.  Through  her  recommenda- 
tion Matsue  San  had  been  appointed  to  a good  posi- 
tion as  a tutor  in  the  high  school.  Her  father  had 
not  refused  his  consent.  Matsue  San  was  happily 
preparing  for  her  new  duties,  and  helping  Miss  Burns 
when  she  could.  The  bustle  of  preparation,  the 
moving  and  storing  of  furniture,  the  packing  of  trunks 
and  boxes,  was  taking  all  the  time  Miss  Burns  could 
spare  between  callers.  All  her  Japanese  acquaint- 
ances, according  to  their  custom,  were  making  part- 
ing calls  and  bringing  parting  gifts.  She  was  not 
thinking  much  about  Matsue  San’s  affairs. 

One  afternoon,  when  Matsue  San  was  away,  Mr. 
Miyagawa  appeared  at  the  home  of  Miss  Burns, 
bringing  his  parting  gift.  In  the  polished  phrases  of 
old-fashioned  Japanese  politeness  he  made  a long 
25 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


speech,  thanking  the  “honorable  teacher”  for  her 
long-continued  kindness  to  his  “foolish  daughter,”  and 
asking  her  to  accept  “this  poor,  unworthy  token  of 
remembrance.”  Then  in  another  long  speech,  he 
dwelt  upon  the  great  condescension  of  the  school 
authorities  in  accepting  the  services  of  such  an 
altogether  incompetent  person  as  this  same  foolish 
daughter  and,  with  many  polite  bows,  he  informed 
Miss  Burns  that  he  had  resolved  to  spare  them  further 
annoyance  and  had  obtained  another  place  for  her. 
In  plain  terms,  he  had  formed  an  engagement  for 
her  and  the  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  a few 
months. 

Alice  Burns  was  amazed.  She  had  had  sufficient 
training  in  Japanese  politeness,  however,  to  answer 
the  speeches  in  kind,  praising  Matsue  San  and  re- 
gretting that  her  valuable  services  were  to  be  lost  to 
the  high  school.  The  interview  soon  ended  with 
the  usual  bows  and  polite  phrases. 

The  next  time  she  met  Matsue  San,  she  said, 
“Well,  Matsue  San,  I see  I must  offer  my  congratu- 
lations.” 

Matsue  San  looked  puzzled. 

“Congratulations?  Why?” 

“Why,  I hear  you  are  to  be  married.” 

“Wha-a-t?” 

Her  eyes  grew  big,  and  she  almost  forgot  to  be 
polite  as  she  burst  out,  “That’s  the  first  I’ve  heard 
26 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


about  it!” 

Somehow  Alice  had  never  thought  of  the  possi- 
bility of  Matsue  San  being  ignorant  of  the  whole 
affair.  Dropping  her  bantering  tone,  she  said,  “Go 
home  to-day  and  talk  with  your  father  about  it.” 

Matsue  San  went.  When  she  returned,  her  usual 
bright  expression  had  given  place  to  one  of  abject 
despair.  The  news  was  true.  Tired  of  being  coaxed 
out  of  matches,  her  father  had  called  together  the 
family  council.  They  had  decided  upon  a husband 
for  her,  a Buddhist,  a man  she  had  never  seen  nor 
heard  of  before  that  time.  The  agreements  were 
already  made.  The  first  presents  had  been  ex- 
changed. Everything  was  firmly  settled ; but  she  felt 
that  she  could  not  possibly  consent.  What  was  to 
be  done? 

The  days  were  rushing  by.  Miss  Burns  seldom 
had  a free  moment.  TTiere  were  all  the  farewell 
calls  to  be  returned,  and  farewell  meetings  to  attend 
and  speeches  to  make.  But,  whenever  there  was  an 
opportunity,  there  was  a conference  with  Matsue  San. 
Every  phase  of  the  whole  situation  was  gone  over 
carefully,  more  than  once. 

“What  would  happen  if  you  simply  refused  to 
do  it?”  the  teacher  asked.  She  knew  about  what 
the  reply  would  be.  The  daughter  would  be  dis- 
owned, and  would  become  an  outcast,  with  no  recog- 
nized place  in  society,  and  no  friends  except  some  of 
27 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


the  Christians.  Alice  knew,  too,  the  injury  which 
such  an  open  defiance  of  Japanese  conventions  by 
one  of  its  graduates  would  do  to  the  reputation  of 
the  school. 

One  day,  Matsue  San  said,  “Miss  Burns,  tell  me, 
what  shall  I do?  I will  do  whatever  you  say.  If 
you  say  to  refuse,  I will  do  it.” 

Alice  Burns  knew  that  she  would  carry  out  her 
promise.  She  thought  a long  time.  She  thought  of 
all  those  generations  of  ancestresses,  whose  only  ideal 
had  been  obedience.  She  thought  of  the  dependent 
nature  of  the  Japanese  girl.  She  thought  of  all  the 
early  training  and  teaching  this  girl  had  had.  Could 
Matsue  San  break  with  all  this?  Would  she  be 
happy,  even  if  she  could  break  with  it?  Would  her 
defiance  do  any  good  in  the  end?  Could  she  hold 
out  a whole  lifetime?  No;  Alice  could  not  say  to 
her,  “Defy  your  family.” 

But  she  was  a freeborn  American  woman.  She 
could  not  say  to  this  girl,  shrinking  as  she  herself 
would  shrink  from  marriage  with  this  man  whom 
she  had  never  seen,  “Consent,  and  marry  this 
stranger.”  At  last  she  said,  slowly,  “Matsue  San, 
you  know  just  what  an  American  girl  would  do  in 
your  place.  But  you  are  a Japanese  girl,  and  you 
must  live  your  life  in  Japan.  You  must  decide  your 
life  for  yourself.  I cannot  do  it  for  you.” 

The  next  day  Alice  started  on  her  long  journey 


28 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


homeward.  She  went  by  a roundabout  way,  stop- 
ping in  several  countries.  At  each  stopping  place 
she  looked  for  a letter  from  Matsue  San,  who  had 
all  of  her  addresses.  None  came.  She  reached  her 
home  at  last,  and  found  numerous  letters  from  Japan 
waiting  for  her.  There  was  none  from  Matsue  San. 
She  decided  that  the  girl  must  have  submitted,  and 
that  her  grief  and  despair  were  so  great  that  she 
could  not  bear  to  write. 

After  several  weeks,  there  came  a long  letter  from 
Matsue  San.  Alice  tore  it  open  eagerly,  and  began 
to  decipher  the  Japanese  writing.  First,  there  were 
several  pages  devoted  to  a full  account  of  the  death 
and  the  funeral  of  the  late  Emperor  of  Japan.  Alice 
hurried  over  them  as  quickly  as  she  could.  Then 
followed  all  the  news  about  her  acquaintances  and 
the  school.  Alice  paid  scant  attention  to  them. 
Finally  came  the  welcome  words,  “Now  I will  intro- 
duce my  own  unworthy  affairs.”  In  terms  most 
polite  and  respectful  to  them,  Matsue  San  intimated 
that  she  had  worked  on  the  family  council  and  on 
her  father  all  summer ; that  finally,  she  had  succeeded 
in  altering  their  unalterable  decision,  and  that  they 
had  at  last  consented  to  give  up  the  marriage.  How- 
ever, it  was  only  on  the  condition  that,  among  the 
other  suitors  for  her  hand,  she  herself  should  choose 
one  at  once,  and  promise  to  marry  him  very  soon. 

She  added  that  she  had  done  so;  that  the  young 
29 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


IN  BEAUTIFUL  JAPAN 


MISS  PINE-BOUGH 


man  was  a Christian,  and  that  she  had  seen  him  often 
at  their  church;  that  he  was  a brother  of  one  of  her 
friends  in  the  high  school,  and  that  she  had  heard 
a great  deal  about  him;  and  in  short,  that  she  really 
believed  she  liked  him! 

Alice  was  jubilant.  She  knew  the  misery  that 
would  almost  inevitably  have  been  Matsue  San’s  lot 
had  she,  a Christian  and  an  educated  girl,  gone  into 
that  Buddhist  household,  to  be  ruled  to  the  minutest 
detail  by  a Buddhist  family,  and  probably  by  a 
tyrannical  mother-in-law.  She  knew  that  Matsue 
San’s  Christianity  would  have  been  buried,  denied  all 
outward  manifestation;  that  all  her  finer  instincts 
would  have  been  suppressed ; that  even  in  the  rearing 
of  her  own  children  she  could  have  had  almost  noth- 
ing to  say.  Even  if  there  had  been  no  physical 
cruelty,  she  knew  the  years  of  mental  anguish  her 
pupil  and  friend  must  have  suffered. 

Instead  of  this,  there  was  the  certainty  of  complete 
liberty,  sympathy  and  help  in  her  Christian  life; 
the  power  to  bring  up  her  children  in  her  faith;  the 
right  to  be  to  her  husband  a helpmeet  instead  of  a 
servant  or  a pretty  toy,  the  consideration  of  a Chris- 
tian man  for  a Christian  wife.  And,  more  than  any 
individual  happiness,  the  news  meant  the  beginning 
of  one  more  center  of  all  good  influences,  one  more 
mighty  power  for  righteousness,  one  more  Christian 
home  in  the  beautiful  and  well-loved  country  of 
Japan. 


31 


